If we could only hold the hands of time still!
I was thinking of that today, as I drove down the road. Taking my mother from the hospital, who is now up in years. She has arthritis in the worst form. Rheumatoid arthritis. This started showing up maybe 15 years ago, and during this time I could see her have better days and worse days. When it first started, she began to slow down her walks. Some days she could not make bread, with her strong hands that used to do so much. Now, today, she has a hard time to get out of the chair, and crawls along with a walker. Time has been, her enemy, during her elderly years.
If we could only hold back the hands of time. I think, we all would like to try to stop the aging process for our parents. We only wish the best health for them and good times in their old age. The golden years, they call them. My mother thinks otherwise. Hopefully, somewhere out there, we can find the time to visit an old person. They tell marvelous stories about the old days, and some stories are inspiring with intriguing bits of struggle and perseverance. And, how things worked in, the good ole days.
The other day I want to the mail for my parents. An old friend of theirs, 87, came and knocked on the window. I went in to chat with him for an hour and a half. I haven't seen this man for a year or two. He told me some wonderful stories of making 11 dollars a day, working on a bulldozer for a wood company. Working till very late at night, from very early in the morning. He hated it, because he was just surviving on such a wage in the early 80s. And how he plowed the roads with an old tractor in the 50s, from Campbelton to Val D Amour. How when something went wrong with the tractor, he had the tools to fix it in the minus 30 weather. No one was going to come to help him, way out in the country side. Even in his 60s, I seen this man haul apart the tracks on his bulldozer. I seen him do all the heavy work, on that big diesel. Quite amazing, for a man who had no education.
Till then....
If we could only hold back the hands of time. I think, we all would like to try to stop the aging process for our parents. We only wish the best health for them and good times in their old age. The golden years, they call them. My mother thinks otherwise. Hopefully, somewhere out there, we can find the time to visit an old person. They tell marvelous stories about the old days, and some stories are inspiring with intriguing bits of struggle and perseverance. And, how things worked in, the good ole days.
The other day I want to the mail for my parents. An old friend of theirs, 87, came and knocked on the window. I went in to chat with him for an hour and a half. I haven't seen this man for a year or two. He told me some wonderful stories of making 11 dollars a day, working on a bulldozer for a wood company. Working till very late at night, from very early in the morning. He hated it, because he was just surviving on such a wage in the early 80s. And how he plowed the roads with an old tractor in the 50s, from Campbelton to Val D Amour. How when something went wrong with the tractor, he had the tools to fix it in the minus 30 weather. No one was going to come to help him, way out in the country side. Even in his 60s, I seen this man haul apart the tracks on his bulldozer. I seen him do all the heavy work, on that big diesel. Quite amazing, for a man who had no education.
Till then....
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